Words
by danceoftheheart
Summary: Words started out as my Smutathon '08 piece for geekfiction but took on some serious undertones that I couldn't make work with the old hot and heavy theme. It takes place within the current canon of the show. Sara has escaped to San Francisco, her mother


A/N: This one takes place within the current canon of the show

A/N: This one takes place within the current canon of the show. Sara has escaped to San Francisco, her mother is still alive and Grissom has been left to fend for himself. The only thing that doesn't mesh is the dog's name. I still can't get on board with the 'Hank' thing.

Words

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Tough day?"

"About the same. You?"

"The usual. You sound tired."

"I suppose I am. I just walked in the door."

"I should probably let you go then. Did you eat?"

"No. Did you?"

"No."

"Then you should do that."

"So should you."

"Okay, then. I'll call you when I get up."

"Good. That sounds good." There's a slight pause. "Gil?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." There's a click and the line goes dead.

"I know." I fold the phone and trudge upstairs.

* * *

--

We have a clock that ticks in our kitchen. Its second hand makes the rounds one thousand four hundred and forty times a day, ticking off eighty-six thousand, four hundred seconds with a relentless precision that has become a point of fascination with me. It doesn't matter what time of the day or night, whether we've had a good shift or bad, whether I'm happy or tired or depressed, that damn hand keeps moving, inching it's way around the clock face ticking away the hours until…until…you throw a coffee mug at it and it falls to the floor smashed beyond comprehension.

Okay, so we had a clock in our kitchen. We are currently clock-less and short one wide-mouthed pottery coffee mug. Sara was not going to be impressed.

I push myself off of the stool and collect a dustpan and hand broom. The task of cleaning up the glass shards and clock innards takes up as much of my attention as any crime scene so it is only as I finish disposing of the mess that I realize Bruno has come in to observe. I meet him stare for stare and he looks up at me with a whine and a quick wag of his tail, gauging my mood. I shake my head at him. "This isn't working, boy," I tell him sadly. He whines again and I reach into his cupboard and grab a chew bone. I toss it to him and he catches it neatly and for the time being he's happy. I know food isn't love but in this instance it does the trick. Wishing it was as easy for me as it is for him I make my way upstairs and get ready for work.

-

* * *

-

I had the routine down pat. I probably could have negotiated the path with my eyes closed. Sometimes, I wasn't certain that I wasn't doing just that. My steps carried me through the lobby, to the second bank of elevators, up to the seventh floor, down three corridors to the high security area of the hospital and finally through the visitors screening hall. My belongings were searched, my reasons for visiting stated and a visitor pass issued. Not for the first time did I ponder how close each of us were to being on the other side of this process. I clipped it to my shirt and worked my way into the common room. My mother was seated at her usual table, her hands busy with some new paper puzzle. A crossword this time. I sat down across from her and waited for her to acknowledge me.

"Sarabelle, this thing has been giving me nothing but trouble all morning. What's a six letter word for deep sadness?"

"Regret?"

"Yes. Yes, that fits. Now what about this one? An eleven letter word for 'left'?"

"Abandonment?"

"There you are. There you are! I knew my Sarabelle would know!" She wrote out the letters precisely, taking care to fit them in the squares just so. "This-This, why this just took forever this morning. How was school, Sarabelle?"

I took a calming breath. "Mother? Mom? Look up. Look at me."

She did and clouds of confusion passed through her eyes. "I was sure…did you see Sara? My Sarabelle? She was just here a minute ago…"

"Mom, it's me. Remember? I'm all grown up now." I reach out a hand to cover hers to stop the shaking her agitation causes. "It's all right. Just relax and think about it. I'm all grown up now, remember? You saw me yesterday. I'm finished school and I'm all grown up."

The shaking stops and she nods but then looks down at her puzzle right away. "Yes. Yes," she says. "Oh, look, I forgot, there's one more. It says here…what does it say? Oh, yes. Says here…ahhhh…contemplating death…8 letters…first one's 's'."

"Suicidal," I whisper in horror and watch her write that down in the blanks. It seems to fit. I sit there silently in the chair for ages wondering if she planned this or if it was just another one of those vicious coincidences my life has fielded over the years.

* * *

I've snapped at Greg. Catherine isn't speaking to me. Warrick wasn't speaking to me and I'm sure won't try for a while longer and Nick…well, Nick's been smart enough to stay the hell out of my way. The only person brave enough to confront me on my crappy attitude is Conrad Ecklie. After ignoring his calls all night, and making sure I was in every lab he wasn't he's finally ran me to ground as I'm packing it in for the day.

He closes and locks the door to the locker room and leans back against it, folding his arms. "Okay, Gil, I'm only going to say this once. You've got three days to figure out this thing between you and Sara…to come to some understanding so you can exist peacefully in this lab with your team-mates or I'm putting you on leave."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're in worse shape than you were when you took your sabbatical and that's saying something. Sad part of it is, I'm not sure you know it. I took the liberty of booking a flight. You don't want it, give it away, I don't care, but something's got to be done before you loose it." He held out a boarding pass and exited without another word and I just sat there, stunned, trying to figure out what had just happened.

There was a tentative knock and Catherine entered, her eyes still hard from our previous conversation, her shoulders raised in defense. "Is it safe to come in?"

"Yes." I held up the ticket. "Do you know anything about this?" When she pursed her lips and refused to answer I nodded grimly. "Yeah. Of course you do. Stupid question."

"Look, I'm still pissed enough at you to kick your ass so watch the attitude. I didn't deserve what you said to me earlier, neither did Greg from the sounds of it. If anyone else was acting the way you are, you'd relieve him of duty faster than you could blink. Warrick's a walking, breathing testament to that fact."

"What Warrick did-"

"Was wrong. Beyond the pale. He deserved everything you gave him and then some but man, you've got to clean up your own garden before you go messing around in someone else's." Her eyes softened. "I know this hasn't been easy. So much has happened in such a short time that it's really hard to take it in. But Gil, you've waited long enough. You've got to go see her."

"She doesn't want me there, Catherine."

"You're wrong."

"She told me so herself."

"I'm sure that's what she says but I'm also sure that that's not what she wants." She sat down on the bench beside him. "She's going through something so rough…but you know she loves you. And you love her. Take the time off and go and see her. Talk face to face. I don't know if it'll solve anything but at least you'll know where you stand." She laid a hand on his arm and unknowingly echoed his sentiments to Bruno. "This isn't working."

I thought about it for a long moment and then nodded, knowing that something had to change. Maybe this was what I'd been waiting for: a push to take some decisive action rather than just reacting. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak and she left, leaving me to my thoughts.

* * *

I had the start of a blistering headache. Everything in my back and neck was pinched and angry. My jaw was clenched so tight it ached. I made the last turn in the route that led me to the tiny house I'd rented on a month to month lease and tried to shake off the remnants of that last visit with my mother.

I'd come back to San Francisco looking for answers but all I had were more questions. I'd fallen apart a couple of times over but was no closer to rebuilding.

I missed Gil more than I ever thought it was possible. I was done with this. I needed to go home. I needed to feel his arms around me not just dream about it. I needed to hear his voice in my ear, up close and personal, not just on the other end of a cold electronic piece of tin. I needed to smell his scent on my sheets, and on my body. The shirt I stole from his closet was no longer adequate. I needed to go home.

Just the thought of that…of being there, had me smiling through tears. Decision made, I couldn't wait to pack and get to the airport. I pulled into the drive and shut off the car. I stepped out onto the paved parking pad and reached into the back for the salad and milk I'd bought for supper and slammed the door home. I took two steps then froze at the sight of a shadowy figure occupying the swing in the corner of the front porch. The salad went flying, the milk spilled and I ran the small distance that separated us and threw myself into his arms.

"How did you know?" I whispered over and over again. "I needed you so much. How did you know?"

"Because I needed you too," he answered simply and wrapped me to him fiercely.

* * *

She was happy to see me at least, I thought, my arms full of Sara. The sense of relief I felt was empowering. I held her so tightly I wondered if she could breathe but she didn't complain, only clutched me tighter when I tried to pull away.

"Don't!" she told me and I laughed a little.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sara. I just thought we might want to move this inside."

She chuckled too. "Yeah, that might be an idea. Come on, I'll show you my digs."

She unlocked the front door and I held it open for her then grabbed my suitcase and followed her inside.

That's when things suddenly got awkward.

I don't know why or how but somehow we were at a loss for words. I placed my case on the floor and she deposited her keys on a side table and then we just stared at each other, not sure what exactly to say next.

Sara finally took the plunge and asked, "Have you had dinner yet?"

I nodded. "On the plane they served something light. Have you?"

"No, but I've gotten into the habit of eating late since I-" she trailed off, unwilling to say what she was thinking.

And there it was. The pink elephant in the room that no one was talking about. The one we hadn't really talked about at all in our little conversations and emails since she'd left.

And I needed to talk about it. I know, strange as it seems, I needed the conversation. I was the one pushing for a dialogue. So, I opened my mouth and words tumbled out in a rush. "Why, Sara? Why did you leave me like that? Why didn't you talk to me? I knew something was wrong and I didn't want to push you but you could have…you could have tried at least…"

"That's rich coming from you," she shot back and then slumped miserably. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. That wasn't fair."

"Unfortunately, it was. But I know this wasn't just…some warped payback. Something's been off for a while now."

"You're right. I thought it was just…that I just needed some time to re-evaluate…you know, clean house but…but I was wrong."

"You could have asked for help-"

"Gil, I couldn't…I didn't know how. I was going down this dark tunnel and…and I was convinced that there was no end in sight. I've always had strict control over myself and how far I could let things go…but I didn't realize how far gone I was until it was too late." She gestured to the living room, leading us to the sofa and settled in with me with a tired sigh. "Gil, that night in the desert changed me. In so many ways. Some were good but others…it dredged up feelings that I thought I was done with…that I'd never ever thought I'd feel again. I really hated myself for what I did to Hannah. I can't believe I went after a child like that. I destroyed her. I set her brother up…" She jumped up like her skin was crawling. Started to pace the room, started to shake and it was all I could do not to stop her frantic actions with my body. She needed to get this out.

"Sara, you couldn't have known-"

"Oh yes, I could have. I should have known. Who else but me would have? I've been there Gil! I knew they were way too close to the edge and I pushed them. I should have seen this coming but I wanted to catch her. Prove she wasn't as smart as she thought she was." She laughed humorously. "Guess I did that, now didn't I?"

"Sara, you're talking in circles. I'm not following. Come here. Please. Let me hold you and start from the beginning. We'll figure this out. I promise."

She smiled faintly. "You think that will do it? Me spilling my guts to you while you hold me?"

"Couldn't hurt," I told her and opened my arms wide. And when she was settled, her back wrapped to my front, when she was safely embraced she let go.

"My mother was haunting me, Gil. Every waking moment. Many of my sleeping ones too. Out of all the things I've faced down, she is the one person that scares me more than anything."

"Honey, she's in a hospital. She has been for years and there's no possibility that she'll ever get out at this point. She can't hurt you."

"I'm not worried about her hurting me, Gil. She's done that in so many countless ways that I doubt she could find a new one. No, that's not what scares me. I'm afraid that I'll become her."

"Sara." I hugged her tighter, dropping a kiss into her hair and rocked her slightly. My mind flashed back to other conversations. 'Do you believe that there's a murder gene?' she'd asked me. 'Crazy people do make me crazy,' she'd laughed. "You are not your mother," I told her now, brushing strands of long brown hair out of her eyes.

"Maybe not. But she defines me, Gil. I measure my sanity by her insanity. I know I'm stable because of our differences. I'm strong because she's weak. At least that was the way I'd always seen it. The distinction was always clear. Natalie screwed everything up!"

Rather than deny it, I let her say what she needed to say. "How? How did Natalie do that?"

"She made me a victim, Gil. Something I swore I would never be again. She had me playing games with myself just to survive that night. Tricking myself. She had me questioning my every action. Using defenses I haven't had to use in a very long time. A lot of the same defenses I used to use with my mother. It was like I was back in some frigging time warp! For all of her problems, Natalie was incredibly clever. Psychotic but so…so brilliant. Despite all of her issues, she has a strength of purpose that is just terrifying. She knew what she was doing. Every inch of the way."

Things started to click. Pieces of the puzzle started to fit. "Sara, are you saying…yes, I can see that you are. You believe that your mother…"

"Gil, I used to blame my father for his own murder. He kicked the hell out of us so many times it was only natural that one of us should finally get fed up enough to find the strength to fight back. I blamed my mother's loss of control on the drugs she was taking and one beating too many but I was a child then and my impressions of her behavior were filtered through the eyes of a child. Now? Now, I don't know. I have doubts. My mother is not by any means stupid or naïve. In fact, I have a terrible suspicion that she far surpasses me on the intelligence charts. She killed my father…and I think she enjoyed doing it…and all of these suicide attempts and dazed conversations are just a front to keep her out of jail."

I sighed. "Well, anything's possible, I suppose, though I'm not sure that's likely."

She laughed bitterly at that and relayed the details about the visit today. "She's always been able to do things like that. She goes from devotion to selfishness in the blink of an eye. She uses anything and everything at her disposal to control a situation; to engineer an outcome that's of her choosing. Much like I was doing on that last case. So you see, I had to come here. To find out…if…I'm sorry, I just couldn't bear for any of this to touch you. I couldn't stand the thought of you seeing me in this way."

"Sara, I love you. You. All the good…and all the bad, what little there is of it anyway. No wait, I'll explain. I don't know very many officers who wouldn't have done what you did and more to catch that pint sized murderer and in the end wouldn't have given her a second thought after they'd caught her. I understand very well that you felt you dropped well below an acceptable level of ethical behavior but considering the high standards to which you've always held yourself accountable, that wasn't really that far a drop. You're human."

"I know that. Really I do…but for a while there, things got really confused. I needed to come here. To help me differentiate between what was me and what was here. But I'm ready to come home now, if that's okay with you."

"I'm here because I had to be with you, Sara. And I had every intention of talking you into coming back with me."


End file.
